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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28248423">Christmas Magic</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLostStar/pseuds/LittleLostStar'>LittleLostStar</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ben Solo is The Only Good Man, Comedy, Drunk Rey, F/M, Hux has some issues okay, bad magic tricks, based on an Ask a Manager post, have i mentioned drunk rey? she raps, petty abuse of popular breakup songs and an innocent piano, school teacher AU kinda, the only christmas thing this jewish gal will ever write so enjoy it</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:35:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,861</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28248423</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLostStar/pseuds/LittleLostStar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hux asks Rey to come with him to his fancy work party, she doesn’t think much of it. She’s done this plenty of times before: go daintily on your date’s arm, charm the heck out of their coworkers, have a few watered-down drinks, and go for Taco Bell on the way home. Hux is a teacher, and Rey knows two things about teachers: one, they have a thing for matchmaking, and two, they drink like absolute monsters. So with Rey to act as a buffer between Hux and any well-intentioned female colleagues and the guarantee of at least two drink tickets, it’s set to be, at the very least, a decently fun night. Hux even describes it as “magical”, which is downright adorable, if a little strange. <br/>But then he rings her doorbell, and Rey pulls open the door only to see an explosion of grey feathers. <br/>“What the fuck?!” she shrieks, clawing at her face. The down settles to reveal Hux, his hands spread wide and face frozen in an expression that screams ‘TA-DAH!’, silent but deafening. At her feet, a pigeon scampers into the bushes that flank the walkway with a panicked-sounding chortle.<br/>“I said it would be a magical night,” Hux manages, his smile momentarily wavering. <br/>“And you meant, um, <i>magic</i> magic?”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Christmas Magic</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is based on <a href="https://www.askamanager.org/2020/12/the-best-office-holiday-party-date-story-of-all-time-2.html">this post</a> from Ask a Manager. Things spun quickly out of control from there. </p>
<p>Many thanks to QueenofCarrotFlowers for the moodboard, and MissCoppelia for beta-ing!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Hux asks Rey to come with him to his fancy work party, she doesn’t think much of it. She’s done this plenty of times before, especially with Poe before he finally came out: go daintily on your date’s arm, charm the heck out of their coworkers, have a few watered-down drinks, and go for Taco Bell on the way home. Hux is a teacher, and Rey knows two things about teachers: one, they have a thing for matchmaking, and two, they drink like absolute monsters. So with Rey to act as a buffer between Hux and any well-intentioned female colleagues and the guarantee of at least two drink tickets, it’s set to be, at the very least, a decently fun night. Hux even describes it as “magical”, which is downright adorable, if a little strange. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then he rings her doorbell, and Rey pulls open the door only to see an explosion of grey feathers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the fuck?!” she shrieks, clawing at her face. The down settles to reveal Hux, his hands spread wide and face frozen in an expression that screams ‘TA-DAH!’, silent but deafening. At her feet, a pigeon scampers into the bushes that flank the walkway with a panicked-sounding chortle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I said it would be a magical night,” Hux manages, his smile momentarily wavering. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you meant, um, </span>
  <em>
    <span>magic </span>
  </em>
  <span>magic?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He blinks. “Yes. Did you not know I’m a member of the Guild of Illusionists? Not the national chapter, the local chapter. We recently splintered over...creative differences,” he huffs, which is almost certainly a prompt for Rey to seek further details about the situation. Instead she grabs her clutch and yanks the front door closed, catching a tiny feather in the jamb as she does. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The drive is thankfully free of surprise bird attacks, filled only with the hum of the car and Bruno Mars’ “24k Magic” on repeat, the lyrics to which Hux mouths under his breath as he keeps his eyes on the road. The party is at a country club, and they spend fifteen minutes circling the parking lot in abject defiance of God and the ‘Valet Service $10’ sign at the front entrance. When they finally do get to the party, Rey hands her jacket over to the woman at the coat check, but Hux keeps his peacoat firmly buttoned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...does the room not have heating?” Rey mutters to herself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hux can hear a pin drop, and he smirks. “Oh, it does. I just have more tricks up my sleeve.” To demonstrate, he snaps his left wrist in a flourish, producing a bouquet of fake flowers that he promptly drops on the floor with a splat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rey is not a woman prone to violence, but in that moment she wants nothing more than to smack the smug grin off his stupid face. Instead she snatches her drink tickets off the coat check counter and strides into the party, determined to get at least a moderate buzz going before Hux asks her to pick a card or whatever the fuck he has planned next. She spots their table and makes a beeline for it. Hux arrives a few moments later, absolutely swallowed by his bulky coat as he hovers at Rey’s elbow like an impatient hummingbird. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I get you a drink?” he asks, smoothing the coat’s lapels over a suspiciously playing-card-shaped bulge. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, any kind of wine,” Rey rips one of her drink tickets from the strip, and as Hux disappears into the crowd she turns back to the table and lets out a long exhale. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A tall blonde woman across the table furrows her brow. “What the hell is with Hux?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Beats me,” Rey shrugs, reaching across the table for a bread roll. “Is there butter, by chance? Also, hi, I’m Rey.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman passes the plate. “Hi, Rey,” she says. “I’m Gwen Phasma, the school principal. How do you know H—oh, speak of the devil!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At that very moment Hux plunks a glass filled with brown sludge in front of Rey, sitting down beside her with a confident smirk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is this?” Rey squints. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a mudslide,” Hux replies smugly. “I got it for you because it’s chocolate, and girls love chocolate.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rey swallows a grimace; she hates chocolate, but it seems rude not to at least appreciate the gesture. “Thanks,” she says, taking the tiniest possible sip and tasting no alcohol whatsoever. Great. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luckily, her tablemates seem pretty cool, even if they are Hux’s coworkers. The senior math teacher, Bazine Netal, did a stint on Broadway in her early 20’s; the lead shop tech DJ is an ethical hacker and lockpick in his free time, and Gwen the principal is just about the coolest motherfucking person Rey’s ever met: she’s on a roller derby team, she does slam poetry with her spouse, and her educational vision singlehandedly restores Rey’s faith in the future. And as all of these fascinating and friendly people are chatting with her, Hux takes every opportunity to interject with attempted magic tricks: he pulls out cards, scarves, magic wands, and self-knotting rope, his coat shrinking comically as he discards each set of props under the table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So what were you saying about Lin-Manuel Miranda?” Rey asks Bazine, as she pointedly ignores Hux’s floating thumb trick and hopes that the fourth silent admonishment will be the charm to finally get him to stop.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bazine smirks. “Oh, he’ll swear up and down that he’s a DDR champion, but I beat the bitch at—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“—Hey, Rey,” Hux says. “Check it out, my handkerchief—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The trick is mercifully interrupted by a fleet of waiters carrying platters of delicious-smelling food; Rey’s stomach grumbles so loudly that she takes a swig of the mudslide in desperation as she waits for her plate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hux, already chewing, raises a forkful of steak at her. “A holiday toast, m’lady?” His other hand grasps his wrist at an awkward angle, making it look as if he’s in the middle of a Doctor Strangelove impersonation, and his smile flattens as he visibly struggles to unclasp something hidden in his sleeve. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Nope.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Rey effortlessly spins around to face the man sitting on her other side, who she’s just now noticing is tall and dark and </span>
  <em>
    <span>extremely</span>
  </em>
  <span> handsome. She checks his left hand by pure habit—no ring. Alright then. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi there,” she says, cutting into her chicken with gusto. “I’m Rey.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ben Solo,” he replies with a shy smile. “You’re Hux’s...date?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Friend,” Rey answers, only barely maintaining her table manners as she swallows the first bite. “Well. Pub trivia teammate, really. This is the first time we’ve hung out just the two of—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“—Rey!” Hux grabs her arm and pulls. “If you would just observe my empty breast pocket—” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Several things happen in the next few seconds. Rey rolls her eyes and turns towards Hux, just as he gives her arm another firm tug, causing her elbow to slip across the polished wood table. Rey hears Hux bleat “Abracadabra!”, and the next thing she knows there’s a bright neon </span>
  <em>
    <span>poof</span>
  </em>
  <span> as a large tube of glitter falls out of his sleeve and spills onto her plate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The entire table grinds to a halt, all eyes trained on Rey as the wave of secondhand embarrassment almost knocks her over. She pretends her beautiful chicken hasn't just been ruined and puts on her most patient smile, the one she used with the six-year-olds she used to babysit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hux,” she says calmly, “would you mind terribly saving your tricks until after dinner? I’d like to hear more about Principal Phasma’s lip-sync battle league, wouldn’t you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, it really seems like Hux gets it, and Rey loses herself to a fantasy where he acts like a goddamn human being and spares himself any more humiliation in the inevitable r/relationships post she’ll write someday about this entire ordeal. But then his ginger eyebrows snap into a scowl, and he pushes his chair back from the table with a terrible </span>
  <em>
    <span>screech</span>
  </em>
  <span> on the parquet. Before Rey can say a word, Hux is gone, stalking across the ballroom to the baby grand piano in the corner and sitting down with a flip of his coat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rey’s heart sinks as she remembers the way Hux always looks at the battered upright piano at the pub each week. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He wouldn’t,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she rationalizes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>There’s already Christmas Muzak being piped through the speakers. We don’t need—</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then Hux flips open the key cover and starts hammering on the E key in stubborn rhythm, and even across the room she can hear as he starts to mumble-sing: </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m not a perfect person...there's many things I wish I didn't do…</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rey grew up dirt poor, and she heard a lot of haunting and fascinating rumours about high-falutin’ country clubs over the years, so she sends a prayer to the trailer trash gods that the one about the secret pit of alligators is true, and hopes she’s sitting on a trapdoor that will mercifully whisk her away to a watery, chomped-up grave. Hux plays through the second verse of “The Reason” before abruptly shifting to another plonking tune that quickly reveals itself to be Gotye’s “Somebody That I Used to Know,” and Rey buries her face in her hands. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Of course I’m going to die of embarrassment, just like that game of MASH said. Goddammit, Rachel, you Barbie-hoarding jerk, I knew you put a curse on me at that sleepover—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>thunk</span>
  </em>
  <span> as someone sets a glass of white wine on the table, and Rey looks up to see Handsome Ben Solo, who’s holding a second glass in his gigantic hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m doing a Dry December,” he says matter-of-factly, “and I wasn’t sure if you liked red or white, so I got you both.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> both,” Rey blurts, swallowing the white in almost one go and letting her eyes roll back in her head as the taste of chocolate is mercifully washed from her mouth. The alcohol blooms through her body, softening her humiliation just enough that a giggle escapes her. Across the room, Hux starts to play a somber cover of “Wrecking Ball” by Miley Cyrus. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Boy, I do not regret turning down his request to switch to teaching music,” Phasma purses her lips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rey is already halfway through the red wine, hoping that tannins count towards her caloric intake for the evening. “Does he often do, um...this?” She gestures over her shoulder just as Hux caterwauls ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>all I wanted was to breeeeak your waaaaalls…’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“With a date? No. But then again, we were all pretty sure he plugged into a charging socket at the end of every day,” Bazine answers. “To be honest, I’m a little surprised he’s friends with someone like you, Rey. You’re...how do I put this tactfully...cool, actually?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As if on cue, Hux wails out the bridge with a dramatic set of chords: “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I never meant to start a war...I just wanted you to let me in…</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re not friends,” Rey says. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re not friends,” Ben blurts at the same time, and when Rey catches his eye he turns a truly adorable shade of scarlet, scratching the back of his neck. “Um.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phasma’s eyes are glinting with an expression Rey can’t quite read, and she grabs her two drink tickets. “Do you like martinis, Rey? Of course you like martinis. Solo!” she waves the tickets at Ben. “Go round up some more tickets and bring our new friend some proper fucking gin, would you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a guy who’s built like a mountain, Ben moves with an endearing sort of grace, as if he bumped into a lot of things as a teenager. Rey can’t help but watch as he heads to the bar, taking scholarly note of how the shoulder seams of his jacket pull just the tiniest bit across the broad muscles of his back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Don't you ever say I just walked away...I will always want you…</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>DJ cracks his knuckles. “I had a bad first date once!” he yells over Hux’s caterwauling. “It ended with the broad and me in jail, handcuffed together, naked as the day we fell outta our mamas, and we met the </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> and only Andy Kaufman. Did you know he’s not actually dead?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Against all odds Rey giggles, and it’s like a fever has broken; she lets herself be distracted as the whole table offers up their worst date stories, their collective laughter drowning out the piano as each story gets progressively wilder. Bazine had to sit through an agonizing four hour one-man abstract theatrical </span>
  <em>
    <span>experience</span>
  </em>
  <span> before her date pulled her onstage to make their first kiss a part of the performance; Tai, the history teacher, once used a conveniently placed emergency ladder to bail out of a Tinder hookup/multilevel marketing pitch. When Ben returns with two martinis, both for Rey, he is lovingly bullied into telling the story of getting his braces snagged on his date’s retainer during a viewing of the William Shatner animated classic </span>
  <em>
    <span>Over the Hedge</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You guys’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>amazing</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Rey slurs, her eyes half-lidded. “Teachers are amazing! I always liked teachers. They were great. Well, most of them are great. Some of them are...really fucking weird.” She squints over her shoulder at the piano, where Hux is playing a funereal version of Carly Simon’s “You’re So Vain” while glaring directly at her; Rey rolls her eyes and turns back to the table a little too quickly, almost smacking her shoulder into Ben’s side. “You guys,” she stage-whispers, “I think Hux is </span>
  <em>
    <span>really fucking weird.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ben snickers into his La Croix. “Did you know he’s a member of the Guild of Illusionists?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rey toasts wildly with her second martini, sloshing the liquid over onto her wrist. “But not the national chapter!” she proclaims, slurping the gin off her arm before remembering her manners and clearing her throat. Right on cue, Bazine hands her a bright orange and pink slushie with a little paper umbrella and a blue curly straw; it clearly began as a fancy juice drink for children, but has been absolutely drowned in what smells like peach schnapps. Rey makes a thrilled noise and takes a sip, her eyelids fluttering with pleasure at the taste. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Teachers, y’all,” she mumbles, the straw still between her lips, “just the motherfucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>best.</span>
  </em>
  <span> You’re angels, each and everyone of you. Shaping tomorrow’s great minds with empathy and hope, it’s the greatest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen, I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>living</span>
  </em>
  <span> for it. You’re such kind people. I can tell there’s been hardship in your pasts, but you’re just </span>
  <em>
    <span>kind</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and so understanding, and so patient, and so willing to deal with </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking magic tricks</span>
  </em>
  <span>—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The room is starting to wobble at the edges, but one person’s face stands out to her in clear detail, and it’s Extremely Handsome Ben Solo, who teaches...something. Rey isn’t very sure. She has reached a crucial point, an apex, a threshold, a moment where she will know she could have done things differently. And sure, Rey could politely decline the drinks and not make a sentimental fool of herself; but Hux is absolutely butchering the best song of 1973, and a dove-shaped blob just crawled out of the nape of his coat and flew up into the rafters, so fuck it. Rey’s going to get capital-D, italicized-for-emphasis </span>
  <em>
    <span>Drunk</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I need another round,” she says, slamming back her mostly-full ridiculous peach drink in one go and exhaling through pursed lips as the liquor hits her. “Listen, buddies, I hafta warn you guys, when I drink, I get—well, I’m just sorry, in advance,” she grabs the ballpoint pen out of Ben’s lapel pocket and turns over one of his gorgeous massive hands to scrawl her address on his inner arm. “Please return me here, thank you. Also, if Hux tries to drive me home—” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that’s all she remembers. </span>
</p>
<p>~</p>
<p>
  <span>When Rey next opens her eyes, the first thing she sees is the familiar water stain on her bedroom ceiling. The second thing she sees is a white and red wrapper, and she wrinkles her nose at the smell of stale cheese and deep-fried corn chips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sits up with a groan, wincing at the sunlight beaming through the gap in her blackout curtains. She’s still dressed in last night’s outfit, and must have passed out sprawled on top of the covers. A half-eaten Nacho Cheese Doritos Locos Taco Supreme slowly unsticks itself from her face and tumbles onto her lap, but Rey hardly notices as the hangover headache hits her like a freight train. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>How did I get home?</span>
  </em>
  <span> she rubs her eyes; the last thing she remembers is deciding to get capital-D Drunk—she swore she’d learned from the Great Halloween Mistake of 2017, but apparently not—and then…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hux. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Rey’s stomach sinks as she tries to remember </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> about how she got home. She goes to grab her phone off her bedside table, but stops when she sees the note scotch-taped to her Gritty-themed phone case: </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Rey, </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This note is to remind you that you asked me to crash on the couch tonight, just in case. I’m writing it for the third time because you’ve ripped up the previous two and tossed them around like confetti because you swear you’ll remember, but here’s a reminder anyway, so I don’t startle you. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ben</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She crawls to her ensuite bathroom and climbs into the tub without undressing, lying down and letting the warm water slowly reinvigorate her until she’s no longer too woozy to stand. After a thorough shower, Rey feels very nearly human again, and her stomach grumbles with the ravenous need for brunch that only comes after a night of entirely too many libations. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rey emerges from her room only to smell the most incredible things: pancakes, bacon, coffee, and frying potatoes. She tiptoes into the kitchen to see Ben wearing her novelty </span>
  <em>
    <span>NO BITCHIN’ IN MY KITCHEN </span>
  </em>
  <span>apron and flipping a pancake with laser-sharp focus. He blushes when he sees her, his hair still mussed from sleep. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good morning. Coffee?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>God,</span>
  </em>
  <span> yes,” Rey slumps into a chair and takes the offered drink with a grateful smile. Ben chose her favourite galaxy mug, which means he </span>
  <em>
    <span>washed</span>
  </em>
  <span> her favourite galaxy mug. Along with the rest of the dishes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rey swallows a sip of coffee, and with it her creeping shame; she’s still far too hungover to have any self-respect. She can beat herself up later, when she can take the hits a little easier. For now, pancakes. Pancakes, topped with bacon, topped with fried egg, </span>
  <em>
    <span>slathered</span>
  </em>
  <span> in syrup, with hashbrowns on the side. It’s a truly impressive spread, expertly made and piping hot; despite the overwhelming number of dishes it must have taken to make, the counters are already cleared. Rey’s kitchen hasn’t been this spotless since the day she moved in. </span>
</p>
<p><em><span>God, how did he do this in only…</span></em><span> she glances around Ben’s torso to catch a glimpse of the oven clock, which reads half past noon, and grimaces. </span><em><span>He had</span></em> <em><span>fourteen hours, at least. Well, that explains how he had time to go out for avocados.</span></em></p>
<p>
  <span>“This is so nice of you,” Rey mumbles around a mouthful of food, swallowing before she continues. “I hope I wasn’t too much trouble last night.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ben chuckles, pouring a full puddle of syrup on top of his pancakes until it resembles Rey’s own plate. “<span class="css-901oao css-16my406 r-1qd0xha r-ad9z0x r-bcqeeo r-qvutc0">None at all, you went around showering all the teachers with love. It was exceptionally lovely; you're a very effusive drunk, if I may say so."</span></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sounds like drunk me," Rey sighs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Though I will say, it was a little difficult to order at the Taco Bell drive thru. Did you know you can rap the entirety of Macklemore’s ‘Thrift Shop’ word for word?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rey feels her face get hot. “Oh. Um. I...did not know I could still do that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You gave a compelling performance, but the cashier was very confused.” When Ben Solo smiles, his eyes crinkle up at the corners. It’s extremely cute. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I was lying on the bench slide / In the park across the street / L-A-T-E-R that week…”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Rey’s phone blares to life, displaying the name </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hux from trivia</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and she hits the Reject button on sheer reflex alone. The phone lights up with a text message within seconds: </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Sorry if U R still sleeping. My work friends absolutely loved U. Want 2 go out again? :-) </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Rey chokes on her coffee, sputtering and gasping as Ben pats her on the back. When she eventually regains her breath, she wordlessly hands the phone to him as she downs a glass of water. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ben laughs so hard he snorts. “Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>no,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he says, handing the phone back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do I say?” Rey whispers, her shoulders shaking with laughter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean...no, I assume.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You would assume correctly.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Poor Hux,” Ben exhales. “I hope he finds a woman who can appreciate him for everything he can offer.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rey smiles. “You seem like a good man, Ben Solo.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When I want to be,” he replies, his mouth twisting into a smile that makes Rey feel warm and fuzzy all over. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t do magic, do you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gestures to the empty frying pan. “Only in the kitchen, and sometimes in the classroom if I’m very lucky. Civics is a weird thing to teach right now.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rey hands her phone back to him, entranced at how his hand dwarfs hers, and gets ready to shoot her shot, because sometimes a handsome man makes you brunch and has muscles like Tarzan and your lizard brain goes </span>
  <em>
    <span>brrrr</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um. You should...you forgot to put your number in there.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ben winks. “Did I? Because you asked me to do that last night.” He opens her contacts to demonstrate, and sure enough, he’s in there: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Handsome Ben Solo.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Right above </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hux from Trivia.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank god Drunk Me has confidence in spades,” Rey takes another sip of coffee.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Handsome Ben Solo blushes, he looks like the painfully awkward twelve-year-old he must have been once upon a time. It’s incredibly endearing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m glad you do, because I admit that I would have been too much of a chicken to steal Hux’s date right out from under his nose like that,” he murmurs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re perhaps too good of a man, Ben Solo,” Rey corrects herself, causing them both to burst into giggles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe,” Ben nods. “But at least I can sing Carly Simon and remain on-key.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve dated weirder guys for less of a reason,” Rey grins. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So have I.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She winces as another spike of headache hits her. “Next time, though, I will remain fully sober. Maybe for the rest of my life.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Works for me,” Ben nods, tucking a stray piece of hair behind Rey’s ear. “I know a great place for dinner, they do amateur magician’s night on Thursdays—ow!” he ducks as she playfully swats him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rey pulls a tiny grey feather out from under her bra strap. “No magic ever again. Not even Christmas magic. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Especially </span>
  </em>
  <span>not Christmas magic.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will Hanukkah Magic work? My family is Jewish, though not very practicing.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She grins. “Perfect.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Comments and kudos much appreciated! Happy holidays, fuck 2020 forever, and come find me on <a href="https://twitter.com/littlestarlost">Twitter</a> and say hi!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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